


yellow feather boa

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey and Justin meet in a gay club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	yellow feather boa

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure where this one came from. all I know is that the image of Joey dancing shirtless, wearing a cowboy hat and a yellow feather boa, in a crowded club, popped into my head and wouldn't leave. I couldn't find a way to make it work in regular canon, so I made it an AU. it's not meant to be stolen from Pet's QaF!sync at all and if any elements are similar, it's because the image of QaF's Babylon is very strong in my mind, and I wholeheartedly apologize. it's basically a pwp, or was meant to be, anyway.

The music was pounding hard in his ears and Justin had lost track of everything, of the time, of the friend he'd come with, of how many beers he'd had, when he first saw the guy.

New guy, he thought immediately, because almost everyone who came here was a regular, or if they weren't they were a friend of a regular. And so was the case with this guy, Justin realized a moment later, because one of the guy's arms was draped around JC's shoulders, the two of them laughing about something with heads bowed close together. But they didn't give off a vibe of being together -- Justin prided himself in being able to read the dynamics of body language between people -- and he watched this new guy eagerly.

He wore a cowboy hat, a bright yellow feather boa wrapped around his neck, and old jeans that had seen better days but fit like second skin over broad sturdy thighs. The guy was big, but big in a solid way, and Justin shuddered at the thought of being pushed up to a wall, or maybe against a kitchen counter or a pool table, pinned by those tree-trunk thighs. He wasn't too hairy, either, just light sprinkles over his broad bare chest, though he had a goatee that really framed his mouth beautifully--

Someone bumped him from behind, and he whirled to growl but sagged when he saw it was Lance. " _What_ ," he yelled, annoyed.

"You were staring!" Lance grinned at him. "Go dance with him."

"Fuck you," Justin snarled. He hated the fact that Lance could tell what he was thinking without even having to look at him half the time. He grabbed the bottle of beer that Lance had brought over for him, swallowed half of it in a long malty satisfying gulp, put it back in Lance's hand, and headed across the packed dance floor.

It was a mess of sweaty smelly bodies, and Justin normally didn't mind getting caught up in it because it was fun to lose yourself in the mass of rhythmic motion, but tonight he tried to squeeze past people without contact as much as possible. He'd had a lot of unwanted groping tonight and it always irritated him when he was the one on the prowl.

The song had segued into something slower and more urgent by the time he'd finally made his way over to JC and his friend, and he grinned at them. JC lit up and wrapped his arms around Justin, shouting "J! Joey, this is J!" as he pulled back. Joey nodded and gave Justin a smile, and Justin felt his heart flip in his chest. He didn't think he'd ever seen a smile quite like that before, and it wasn't even all the way open -- Joey had a face made for smiles, it was obvious.

"You mind if I steal your friend for a dance?" he said to JC to get over the sudden feeling of want.

JC nodded, his own grin so huge his eyes were nearly closed. "Go on!"

Justin glanced at Joey again, wanting to make sure it was OK with him; Joey laughed then, grabbed Justin's hand and just like that they were in the middle of the floor. Justin wasn't sure what to expect of Joey, who had the thickness of someone who didn't work out much but kept active in other ways, but he proved to be surprisingly fluid, mobile, an engaging and energetic dancer. Before the song had ended, Justin had shaped his tentative hope into a firm vow: Joey was going home with him tonight.

They stayed out there for three more songs and then Joey, laughing, said he needed a beer, so they headed back to where JC was seated by the bar, now, talking to Tony -- "Hey!" he shouted as they came up, and Justin leaned in next to JC to signal to the bartender for a couple of beers. Chris nodded at him -- he was in the middle of things, it was the busiest part of the night -- so Justin leaned back against the bar, comfortable between JC and Joey.

"So what's your name?" Joey said, with a grin, and Justin groaned as he realized he'd neglected to introduce himself.

"Justin Timberlake," he replied, and Joey's eyes widened just a little with pleased recognition.

"Oh, you're the one -- C told me about you."

"Oh, shit," Justin laughed, but Joey was smiling so he figured it couldn't be that bad.

"No, no, just that he'd known you since like you were both in elementary school or something, and how you're the best singer he knows."

Justin felt himself flush for real that time, which kind of surprised him because compliments were nothing to him anymore -- but JC's esteem was always something good, and to be known that way by this guy he wanted to impress, that was something else again. "Yeah, I guess," he shrugged, mopping at his forehead with one hand. "I've sung some demos for stuff he's written and stuff."

"Don't let him get away that easy," JC grinned from behind Justin. "He's fucking amazing. What he's doing here in podunk, USA, when he ought to be out there swiveling those hips for all the girls--"

"Jesus, Chasez," Justin laughed, and then Chris was handing over their beers and he dug out his wallet to pay. A moment later, Lance crossed through the mob and came up to slap Justin's shoulder -- his mouth was wet, and Justin grinned to himself, because he'd been sure that he'd seen Carter around here somewhere -- and there was another round of introduction. Then Joey and Lance worked out that they'd had a class together in junior high before Lance had moved across town, and suddenly Justin started to worry, seeing the two of them laughing about some antic of a former classmate's.

"Don't worry about them." JC wrapped an arm around Justin's waist, squeezed a little, and Justin sighed and let his head drop to JC's shoulder. He was soaked with sweat, his hair was wet, and he couldn't wait to go home and take a shower and get rid of the sweat and smoke and alcohol.

"I know," Justin said, and he did. He'd known Lance for-freaking-ever -- they'd been fuckbuddies for a while, before Lance had started up with whatever the hell he was doing with Nick ("it's not a romance! We're not fucking going out!") -- and he knew better than to do less than trust him. He drained his beer, felt the alcohol drive through him, setting his senses humming. And then Joey was lowering the bottle he was drinking from, his eyes dark as they'd been when the two of them had been out on the dance floor, and Justin felt a fire light up deep in his stomach. He was hard again, wasn't sure he hadn't lost the first hard-on he'd felt on seeing Joey.

Joey put down the bottle and stood up from his stool, and Lance, like it was some kind of signal, nodded and faded back, sliding in next to JC and giving Justin a little push in the small of his back. Justin moved without real conscious thought, walking in Joey's wake as they headed back out to the floor. Somewhere along the line he'd gone from hunter to prey and he didn't even care.

The music jangled, sharp and intrusive, in Justin's ears, but he did his best to tune it out; they only needed a little space, because as soon as they were in the middle of things, Joey turned, hands on Justin's hips, drawing him in and they were moving together, dancing, driving, hard in and close. The grind was good and sweet and everything Justin had been wanting. He didn't care if he fucking came in his jeans at this point as long as he didn't have to stop dancing with Joey.

They were moving backward, slowly but surely, and Justin knew without looking that behind him lay the entrance to the back rooms, the dimly-lit corridors where anything could and usually did happen. And it wasn't like he didn't have a thing for it, for the anonymity of some of the encounters or a hurried blowjob before the end of the night, but--

"Wait," he said, and Joey shot him a look.

"What?"

"I'd-- Don't you want to get out of here? Lance's my roommate, he won't be home for hours."

He saw something flicker in Joey's eyes, an element of surprise and delight, and he grinned uncontrollably when Joey said, "Yeah, sure, let's get out of here. I need to get my shirt from C."

It only took a moment to say their goodbyes, JC promising to give Lance a ride home before he and AJ headed back and Joey draping his boa around JC's neck and dropping the cowboy hat on his head, and then they were heading out to the street. Justin had parked across the road and they walked quietly, the air cooler now, moist on their skin, seeming to damp down the muted throb of bass and beat from the club. Justin hit the alarm on the car and they climbed in, Joey fiddling with the radio as Justin pulled out and headed towards the west side.

Talking to Joey was surprisingly easy, Justin learned as he drove. Joey asked him what he did and he talked a little about his job as an executive assistant, which was boring but it paid well enough, enough for him to go out and have fun and have a nice car, a good place to live. Joey Fatone, it turned out, was 26 and an assistant chef at one of the best Italian restaurants in town. Justin nearly choked on his tongue when Joey casually offered to make breakfast for him; instead, he grinned and said, "For free?"

"I'll take it out in trade," and Joey squeezed his knee, his smile warm. Justin swallowed hard.

By the time they were back at the apartment, heading up the four flights of stairs, Justin was pretty sure he'd acclaimed himself as a world-class dork and Joey was going to let him down gently -- nicely, because he could tell that was the kind of guy Joey was -- and then maybe call a cab or JC for a ride home. Instead, Joey took a look around the spacious living area of the apartment, said "Nice" while Justin locked the door, then turned and pressed him up against it. He was big, deceptively powerful; Justin squirmed happily against him.

"Where's the bedroom?" Joey growled with his lips on Justin's neck. Justin tugged him up so that he could kiss Joey, taste the heat and salt on his lips, flicker their tongues together, and then breathless he nodded to his right, to the hallway. Joey nodded and stepped back, and Justin grinned and pelted off down the hall. He could hear Joey's laughter trailing behind him.

In the bedroom he kicked off his shoes and sprawled back on his elbows on his big bed. Joey came up in the door, stripping his shirt off, his grin mirroring Justin's own. The shirt fell to the floor and he stepped in, one hand catching the door and pulling it closed as Justin sat up to tug his own shirt off and toss it aside. Then Joey was falling on the bed next to him, a meaty arm catching him around the waist, and Justin sucked in a breath at the sight of all that bare skin so close, touching him; he was suddenly, acutely aware of how grimy he felt, every inch, sweaty and drenched in smoke.

"God, you are so fucking cute," Joey said, and kissed him. Justin forgot whatever it was he'd been thinking about when Joey's tongue parted his lips and tasted him, explored his mouth. It was almost enough to forgive the 'cute' comment. Justin preferred being called hot or sexy. But he didn't care, as long as Joey kept kissing him, one hand combing restlessly through his short curls, the other firmly anchored at his waist. Justin's own hands felt good on Joey's back, wide, the planes of muscle shifting a little under his fingers, and he liked the way Joey groaned into his mouth when he scratched his fingernails down either side of Joey's spine.

He nudged, pushing with his shoulders until Joey rolled to his back, and then he attacked Joey's jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping and tugging down, gratified when he saw the hard line of erection tightening Joey's boxer-briefs. "Fuck," Joey mumbled, and Justin glanced up even as his hand went automatically to that stiff curve.

"This OK?" he said.

Joey laughed, a helpless sound. "Jesus, yeah, don't fuckin' stop, man." Justin grinned at that and tugged the boxers down, inhaling a little, breathing Joey in. The hot scent of sweat and smoke and musk was even more of an aphrodisiac, and he nuzzled the smooth soft curve of stomach -- no, Joey didn't work out, but the muscles he did have weren't for show, not like Justin's -- as his hand curved around Joey's dick, getting used to him. He loved to tease, especially because Joey was obviously sensitive, groaning when his lips brushed over the hollow of a thigh, but finally he gave in and put his mouth on Joey's cock. Joey's hands rested in Justin's damp curls, guiding gently but more for the contact, Justin thought, because his fingers were light and they almost shook as Justin moved steadily, bathing the thick shaft in heat. Joey tasted good, felt perfect in his mouth, and he closed his eyes, breathing him in, the rich smell, earthy and hot.

He liked to think he was pretty good at blowjobs, and from the way Joey was writhing and moaning beneath him he had a feeling he was doing a pretty good job now. Which was good, because he really wanted to make Joey feel good. He pressed a hand down on Joey's rolling hips, forcing him to stay still, and let his head move freely, smooth and quick, taking him in as deep as he could. Joey was slick and wet now, and when he gave a lower-pitched groan and his fingers gripped at Justin's nape, Justin eased back, slowing his rhythm a bit. He didn't want this to be over that fast. Actually, he wanted…

He paused, drew back, fist curling around Joey's erection to stroke it slowly, and looked up. Joey was giving him a stunned gaze, his eyes dark and hungry, and Justin swallowed hard, reminded all over again of his own aching erection.

"Joey," he said, had to clear his throat because it was thick with need, "I, I want you to fuck me."

Joey inhaled sharply at that, and then laughed a little, pulling at Justin's hands and tugging him up so that they were laying down together. "Trust me, not a problem," he said, and kissed Justin, a breath-stealing, heady, drugging kiss. Justin mewled into his mouth, pushing himself against Joey, and Joey's hands slid into Justin's jeans and squeezed his ass.

"Fuck, yeah," Joey grinned into his mouth. "You got stuff?"

"Over here," and Justin pulled away, scrabbling with the button on his jeans as he reached over to the nightstand with his free hand. Even as his hands closed on the strip of condoms, he felt Joey's hand close on his and then pluck his jeans open, and he groaned as one big hand explored its way inside Justin's boxers. "Oh, Jesus," he gasped.

Joey's hand curled into a fist around Justin's erection, making him mewl. "Nice," Joey rumbled in his ear, and Justin finally grabbed the lube from the corner of the drawer into which it had rolled and dumped his handful on the bed. "Here," he breathed, "here's everything."

Joey licked his lips and drew in a long breath and Justin leaned up to kiss him, hard and urgent. "Roll over," Joey said. Gulping, Justin did so, and Joey grabbed a pillow, sliding it beneath Justin's hips and then tugging his jeans the rest of the way off. The pillow did nothing to help Justin's aching erection; he pushed into it, biting his lip, listening as Joey moved behind him, a large hand spreading his thighs. He had really gentle hands, Justin thought, and then shuddered as slick fingers slid between his buttocks and teased at the taut muscle of his opening.

"How do you, what's good for you?" he heard Joey say, his voice throaty and low. Justin fought back a moan.

"I like, I, uh, fingering's good," he managed to say. "I just, I mean, I don't need that m--oh God!" Joey had slid one finger in, suddenly, so smooth and quick that Justin arched back with pleasure and dug his fingers into the mattress. There was a soft chuckle, and Joey drew his hand back and thrust in again, slower this time, letting Justin's body open up to him slow and naturally. Justin bit his lip, whimpering a little, the barest flickers of pain fading into hungry warmth and he pushed back to meet Joey's fingers, because there were two now -- "Two, OK," Joey had breathed and it floated past Justin's ears -- and moving steadily, pumping in easy strokes, "Jesus, fuck, Justin," Joey muttered, "you're so fuckin' hot for it."

"Want you," Justin groaned and Joey's fingers stroked his prostate. Shocking pleasure flashed through him and he pushed into the pillow again, aware that he was making helpless noises. "Please, Joey," he forced himself to articulate.

"OK," and Joey's voice was as ragged as his own. "OK." The tormenting fingers withdrew; Justin heard the rip of foil, Joey's soft helpless sound as he rolled the condom on, and then he shifted and settled between Justin's thighs, his body hot and close and cockhead pressing firmly against Justin, relaxed muscle starting to give way with a friction so sweet it made Justin want to cry. "Good? You OK?"

"So OK. Come _on_ ," Justin growled and grabbed at Joey's hip with one hand, blindly closing his hand on solid muscle, bone, trying to drag him forward. Joey's breath was sharp, now, hissing in and out of him as he pushed forward -- he'd braced himself with hands on either side of Justin's shoulders, and Justin could see his arms shaking a little -- and then there, the fullness, penetration, completion. Justin sighed happily and worked himself back a little until his ass was pressed full into Joey's groin.

Joey gave a little shaky laugh and then began to move, sliding back slow and forward again, his thrusts lazy, easy at first while he got used to Justin's body. Justin brought his hands forward, letting his head tip so that his forehead was pressed into the mattress, and rocked back to meet Joey with every steady stroke. "So good," he mumbled, and it was, he was hardly aware of anything but the sensation of Joey pumping, pumping, sure and firm, and the heat and solid delicious weight of Joey's body blanketing his, and the sheets and the pillow below him. Nothing else seemed to exist past that, and if there was anything else, he didn't want to know about it.

He slid a hand beneath himself, finding his cock in the folds of the pillow, and just held it, not wanting to go too fast just yet; Joey was rocking a little faster now, pressing and holding himself in deep at the end of each thrust, and Justin wanted it to last. He could hear Joey murmuring something like a mantra, half to himself, something about "so fucking good, Jesus, you have no idea."

Another thrust and a twist of hips, and then Joey began to pick up the pace, and in rhythmic time Justin's hand started to move on himself, without conscious thought, eking out sparks of sensation that danced up and down his spine, dizzying his senses. He was lost in Joey, didn't ever want to be found.

"Holy fuck," Joey gasped, "Justin, oh, my God," and Justin pushed back hard, using the momentum to push himself onto his knees, supporting himself with his free hand. Joey gave a guttural groan, and his thrusts came fast and arrhythmic now; Justin welcomed it, groaning and pushing back as if trying to fuck himself on Joey. Three more rough strokes, four, five, and Joey shoved hard and fast and held himself inside Justin, buried deep, and the hoarse cry he made rasped down Justin's spine like a hot urgent caress. It was the last bit of stimulation his senses could take, and he drove himself back and groaned out his own orgasm, letting it rattle him from head to toe.

He collapsed forward, rolling to his side after a moment to avoid the inevitable wet spot; after a moment, Joey grabbed the pillow, threw it over the side of the bed, and then fell forward to rest his weight on one hand, the other stripping off the condom. He flopped onto his back and tied it, tossing it in the general direction of the wastebasket.

Justin's head was still spinning, and after the force of his climax he was feeling somewhat dazed, so he didn't complain -- as if he would have -- when Joey tugged him into a warm embrace.

"Hey," he murmured.

Joey chuckled, soft, one hand idly stroking through Justin's soft curls. "Hey."

"God, that was." Justin blew out a breath, still not quite coherent. "That was intense."

"Yeah." Joey brushed a kiss into his hair, affectionate. "I'm glad I finally let C talk me into going out there with him."

"You and me both," Justin grinned. He sat up to reach for the covers and then paused, worrying his lower lip as he looked at Joey: sprawled carelessly in his bed, looking utterly comfortable where he was, soft and warm-limbed. He sucked in an involuntary breath. "I, uh. You weren't kidding about breakfast, were you?"

Joey laughed, then, reaching for Justin to pull him down. "Nope. But I gotta get going after that." Justin's heart started to sink until Joey went on, in an odd sort of tone, "I, uh. It's my weekend with my kid."

Oh. Justin didn't even have to think about it. "OK. Uh, you want me to set an alarm or something?"

"Nah, that's cool." Joey let out a breath and Justin saw that he'd been nervous, and somehow it was endearing. "I just, you know, before noon."

"All right." Justin reached for the covers again, tugging them up and settling sheets and bedspread over both of them. It was easy to curl into Joey's welcoming warmth. "Unless I attack you in the morning. Can't make any promises."

Joey gave a sleepy chuckle and that was the last thing Justin registered: the soft rumble of Joey's chest under his cheek, and thick fingers entwined in his hair.

* * *

In the morning, though, Justin woke to discover that the bed was empty. He realized it before he'd fully awoken, groping across the mattress for someone who wasn't there, and panic roused him into full consciousness. Then he heard the voice -- someone singing, in a baritone register that definitely wasn't Lance -- and caught the scent of eggs and bacon cooking, and he grinned and got up to reach for his clothes. A shower could wait until after breakfast.

Joey was in the kitchen, along with Lance, who was wearing the same jeans and tank-top he'd worn out the night before, so Justin suspected Lance had only just come home. Lance grinned across the room at him, and Justin scowled back: it wasn't him Joey was cooking breakfast for. Seeing Lance's smile, Joey turned from the stove and his own smile lit up the room. Justin felt a painful flip in his stomach.

"There he is," Joey grinned. "I was about to come wake you up."

Justin made a show of pouting, coming over to slip his arms around Joey from behind. "Wish you had."

"Down, boy," Joey chuckled, but he turned to kiss Justin. Lance made a face at them, muttering something about getting a room, and Justin grinned, "you're just jealous", and went to set the table.

After breakfast, Lance offered to wash the dishes, so Justin tugged Joey back into his room. "You want to take a shower before you go?" he offered. "And I have spare toothbrushes--"

Joey laughed, pulling Justin down to the bed. "It's OK," he said. "I'll catch one at home. But, look, if this is weird for you--"

"No, no, not at all. I think it's cool." Justin let his arms slip around Joey's waist. "I want to. I mean, I want to see you again."

"OK." Joey looked apprehensive but happy, and he sat back so that they could write down phone numbers and cell phone numbers and email addresses; once the exchange was complete, Joey folded Justin's hand around the slip of paper and said, "Call me tonight?"

Justin nodded, unable to contain his smile. They kissed again, one more time, and then Joey stood, sighing. "OK, I have to go. I'll, um."

"I'll talk to you tonight," Justin supplied, and Joey grinned, a last smile before he pulled his shoes on and headed out to his waiting cab. As soon as he'd left the room, Justin leaned over to look at the clock to see how many hours it would be before it would be reasonable for him to call. For some reason, he couldn't seem to stop grinning.


End file.
